Better
by whenthewallscomecrashingdown
Summary: You give so much. Too much, sometimes. You feel as if you're bending yourself over backwards, trying to make everything seem perfect. But nothing's perfect, is it?


You give so much.

Too much, sometimes.

You feel as if you're bending yourself over backwards, trying to make everything seem perfect.

But nothing's perfect, is it?

He's sad

So, so sad.

You rack your brain to try and remember the last time he touched you without that tortured expression in his eyes, but you can't remember.

He's sad and you can't take it anymore.

How many times can you reach out before your arm breaks?

How many times can you try to salvage the relationship that you feel is falling apart?

How many times…how many times…why is it you doing all the work?

Why doesn't he step up? Why doesn't he try to make this relationship work?

Why is it always you?

It's only a matter of time…

Your hands are cold and shaky as you begin to pack your things. This is it. It is the end. How can it possibly have gotten to this point? How could everything go so wrong? You remember all the good times, his quiet happiness, your loud laughter; the seemingly perfect relationship now seems tainted. Was he faking that quiet happiness? Does he even care enough?

Why was it always you trying to save "us"?

He enters the room and looks around confused and you freeze.

Are you going somewhere? Is there a work trip he doesn't know about? You can almost hear the silent thoughts going through his mind.

You remain silent, and decide to give him one last chance.

"I need you to tell me who I am to you," you say. "I need to know…because I'm not like you. I'm not strong and silent. I'm weak and loud. I cry when I read the sad parts in books, I yell when I'm angry, I'm a mess of emotions, I throw myself into things that I shouldn't and I love you. I love you so much, so much it hurts me. I need to know who I am to you." A tear slides down your cheek, and you hastily wipe it away. You know he hates this, these emotions are so messy. He hates dealing with emotions, he's a robot, he has to be.

"I need to know because everyone is telling me that I can't love you. Everyone. The world is against us and for so long…for so long I've fought and I'm tired, Scorpius. I don't want to fight anymore. It takes so much energy to fight a world with preconceived notations on who you love. I know you loved her, your dead wife. I know you did. But I need to know you love me too." Your voice cracks and more tears spill out.

"I know a part of your life ended with her, I know that. But a different part of your life started with me, right?"

He stares at you silently, emotionlessly and you crack.

You're sobbing now, tears and snot streaming together as you cover your hands with your face, gasping for breath as your body convulses. You bend over, and hear your sobs echo in the room around you.

You can feel his eyes on you as he stands, metres away from you, not moving closer as you sob. You control yourself moments later, gathering up what dignity you have left.

"I need you to say something. I need you to say something before I walk out of this door for good and find someone happy. Someone who will pay attention to me and laugh with me and be good for me. Someone without a dead wife to, to, love me. I need to know Scorpius; I need to know that we can make it. So I can face my family and the rest of the world _with_ you. So we can fight _together_. Because there's only so much I can do alone. And if I have to do this all alone, I'll break. So tell me, tell me. Are you in this for the long haul?"

And then you're in his arms, wrapped so tightly against him. You can feel his heart beating in his chest as his head is bent into your neck. You can feel moisture now, his tears, you think. And then you know.

"Say it. Please, just say it."

He lifts his head, his eyes rimmed in red, his calloused hands on either side of your face.

"She is my past. You, you're my present. I loved her, but I love you. I'll be a better boyfriend. I'll fight for you, I'll fight for us. Please don't leave me…I couldn't take it if you left me. I love you so much that even though your family is right, even though you're too good for me, I'm too selfish to give you back...I swear, I'll make a good father."

How could he know?

"I know you. I love you…how do you think I couldn't notice?"

You shake your head…this wasn't happening. You'd been so sure…so sure he'd pick his dead wife over you.

"She's dead, Rose. I only have you now. You and that little baby we made."

You throw yourself into his embrace again, feeling his strong arms wrap around your torso, holding you tightly to him, so tightly. You burrow into his shoulder, breathing steadily, feeling completely safe. You feel as if everything is so utterly right.

And then you hear his voice, soft and low in your ear.

"I'll be better…I'll be better."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, I've been bitten by the writing bug...again. I suppose I have renewed interest in writing after a brief hiatus. This is my September one-shot...a bit early. But at the rate this is going I might have another one in September too.**

**Anyways, let me know what you think!**

**~wwccd**


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